Lights, camera, style

As somebody who has observed human endeavour through more than a dozen different cameras and formats from 4x5 inch to digital, over the last 40 years, I'm still amazed by the differences between the people I shoot (and hoot).

Some have grace and style and others are gawky, with flashes of brilliance. Some are humble, respectful and embrace the aloha vibe. Others are rude and spiteful. 

I just scratch my head and try and just roll with it all. 

I guess we all have a bit of light and dark.

Buddah Would Go

I bought a tee shirt the other week showing a drawing of a chubby Buddah with a surfboard and the words "Buddah would go" - a kinda twisted tribute to the late Eddie Aikau ("Eddie would Go"). 

The lady who made it claimed it was a true story. She went to go surfing with her husband and thought the conditions were a bit wild for her level of competence. Her hubby simply said "Buddah would go". They had a great surf and she got inspired to make a tee. 

I like to think about that phrase - "Eddie would go", when I need a little kick along in the motivation department.

The notion of a deity surfing makes as much sense I suppose as a deity having a birthday (is that a tautology, deity being born and all?). I know Jesus spent a bit of time on the water. I'm not across the whole Buddah-on-brine thing, so maybe I'll crash his birthday party this weekend to find out more.

In the meantime here's an inspiring vid from Kiwi photog, Mark Gee. Happy Birthday Buddah.

Monochrome Monday (The Party)

What's a party without music?

It would be safe to say I've been to hundreds, no maybe a thousand parties - parties with bikies in barns out in the bush; 18ths, 21sts, 1st birthdays the kid will never remember; farewells to friends moving overseas, bucks (bachelor) parties where the groom just makes it home in one piece; parties with bands playing so loud that the cops came to shut them down; parties where I jammed with total strangers; met new friends; lost stuff; parties with kegs of beer; parties with homebrew.... Each unique, but all featuring MUSIC.

Here's a little quiz for the braincells still functioning on a Monday. (Answers at the bottom)

Lyric Zero - "I bought a ski blanket, then I bought a kneeboard "

Lyric One - "When the music's over, turn out the lights."

Lyric Two - "Sun machine is going down and we're gonna have a party."

Lyric Three - "The weekend starts here"

Lyric Four - "Rocked up to a party with some cheap beer"

Lyric Five - "Mama don't allow no reefer round here"

Lyric Six - "I'm gonna make it, yeah I'm gonna make it home for breakfast"

Answers:
0  Thrift Shop  by Maclkemore and Ryan Lewis

1  When the music's over by The Doors

2  Memory of a  free festival by David Bowie

3  The Weekend starts here by Fatboy Slim

4  My Scene by Seth Sentry

5 Mama Don't  by JJ Cale

6  Gonna Make It by Vydamo

Quiver 2

Front row, far left

Today we remember all of the wonderful men and women who have served our country in war - people like my Dad who went off to sea as a teenager (front row, far left) and returned, in the words of Coleridge, "a sadder and wiser man". 

He wouldn't talk much about war at sea, saying that you couldn't begin to understand the stress and horror of it all unless you were there. Instead he'd tell us funny stories about mischief he got up to as a sailor (Is that where I get it from?) About fifteen years ago, before he passed away, he penned a few words about his experiences . I'm sure he would be Ok with me sharing a few snippets. 

BIG Thanks cobber.

Those days immediately after my demobilisation from the Navy seemed strange and surreal. The state of alertness was still there. Every time the telephone rang I would get quite a start.

Sleeping in a bed was quite unusual. There was no ships' movement or the continuous sound of ships' motors to which we had all become accustomed . A couple of times I woke up sleeping on the floor.

POWs were coming home and with them came the true and shocking story of the brutal treatment they endured. But they were a great mob and we shared many hilarious experiences of our times in the services.

I had enjoyed a comradeship with my shipmates that has never been equalled. It is a comradeship borne out of complete trust - "My life is in your hands. Your life is in my hands." That comradeship continues today.

Wednesday word

Happy Birthday Bazzmeister

Monochrome Monday (late)

Late home from a few days away in the crispy cool mountains, shooting sunsets, goats, gliders and brides.

This looks fun. Run down the mountain.

Jump off and enjoy the view. Easy.

TGIF (tough it out)

Been a tough week.

But not as tough

as a lot of others

out there.

TGIF

Dr Maria

 Today's post dedicated to my doctor, Maria. BIG thanks.

 Kustom Krafts markets, music and roller derby car wash (?me too?), this weekend at the Bearded Dragon Hotel. 

Would Eddie Go Pro?

Add can't shoot this with a Go Pro

I met a very hip surf photographer at an engagement party after-party the other night. God knows why somebody of my vintage was further damaging their ear drums at an hour when my generation should be snoring and dreaming, but the vibe was tasty. I even saw a poster for an upcoming gig by Jello Biafra and the Guantanamo School of Medicine,

So me and the hipster are talking about our craft and swapping stories of epic treks and near drownings to get The Shot. And as I've discovered, I seem to blab on and on about gear and swapping hints like,"do you spit on the dome or lick it? " We are talking underwater camera housings here. Nice. I learned some new stuff and shared some old stuff. He seemed happy that I had been shooting Noosa since 1975.

So we say our goodbyes and he says "I'm so glad you didn't say you use a Go Pro." It's like those brilliant little boxes with their super-wide angle are inferior to our monster DSLR rigs. But for me, I reckon whatever gear gets the job done. I don't own a Go Pro but I use a swag of film cameras and a couple of digi's and they all take different kinds of pics. So if you see me Go Pro-ing one day, don't assume anything, (except I'll be spitting not licking the dome.)

Death, pelicans and tractors

I was jogging around a few headlands, a few hundred miles, a few Peronis and a few days ago, when I discovered where old tractors go to die. There's this special headland that must remain unnamed where rusty old Massey Ferguson's are still valued. (And I thought, "this is my kind of place"). The surf on the biggest point was building and old surfers shuffled in their sheds looking for that Big Day Shooter from a few seasons ago. Even the eyes in the hills knew it would be on in a few days.

In the meantime, the boat ramp was busy with dozens of ancient farm tractors happily launching fishing vessels into the brine. Job done, the tractors would sit in bunches quietly rusting, talking story of fertile paddocks, bush flies the size of a child's fist and lightning (that stuff can kill a tractor!), waiting to once again be put to work towing boats, fisherfolk and their overnight catches back to land. Their eyes aimed north towards the horizon, while pelicans dallied in the offshores

Monochrome Monday (busy)

 Today's post is dedicated to my non-surfing mate Sam (AKA Eduardo) who is competing in this weeks Boston Marathon. Hope you glide though the crowd, buddy.

TGIF

Tomorrow we leave "Woodstock-by-sea"

One of These Days - Pink Floyd - live at Pompeii

Music to travel by

Father Bob

My favourite high profile Christian, Father Bob distils the mountains of rhetoric, dogma and argument down to this pearl of wisdom:

"Who Cares, Wins"

Elegant. 

Simple. 

Profound.

Not always easy,

but a recipe

for happiness.

PS these blog posts have been automatically scheduled to run as I'm away from the brinecave all week. Aloha (unless I find free wi-fi in my wanderings)

Kool Aid Kontinues